


Venus Recurring

by lady_ragnell



Series: Summer Pornathon 2015 [6]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Book/Movie Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Multi, Team Gluttony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 23:18:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4684955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_ragnell/pseuds/lady_ragnell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ygraine of the House of Pendragon has Recurred on a backwater planet called Earth, and it seems that everyone has an opinion on the matter.</p><p>A series of five interconnected ficlets for different pairings in a Jupiter Ascending AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arthur/Gwen/Merlin

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** the biggest warning is for chapter two, the Freya/Morgana, which deals heavily with a slave/master relationship and all the screwed-up things that come with being able to order and breed splices like you might pets. Beyond that, past character death, mentions of illness, potential dub-con.
> 
> Chapter 1 notes: written as leftovers for the week two "Three" challenge at the summerpornathon.

“What does a captain of the Aegis want with this branch of the House of Pendragon?”

“Three things,” says Gwen, smiling in answer to Merlin's blatantly flirtatious smile on her screen, though not all the news she has to bring is good. “Open the portal?”

“Of course, captain. I'll meet you in the bay.”

The portal opens, and Gwen shuts off communication. She'll see him in a moment, and there are people watching.

*

Merlin meets her at a jog, and pulls her into a kiss as soon as they've made the official greeting. No one will say anything much about that, but Gwen still makes sure to say all the right things to let her pull him into private after her crew knows that they're docked for the night.

“The first thing is your-ears-only,” says Gwen, leaning into his shoulder. Merlin is dressed well—Arthur must have gone with his plan to see Morgana after all. “At least until we figure it out. It's her, Merlin. Morgana paid Nimueh to fetch her, and I think I've talked Nimueh into bringing her to us instead, but … well, it's hard to know what Arthur will do.”

“He'll be glad, but she won't know anything.” Merlin frowns. “Morgana is involved somehow, though she didn't say it. Nimueh likes her best.”

“I think I told Nimueh the right things. She's still talking her off-planet, but I would be surprised if they're not asking for access by tomorrow night.”

Merlin sighs, and he looks tired and run-ragged. Gwen knows she must look the same, and she's so grateful for Merlin, for someone to relax her guard around. “We'll talk to him, then. What's the second thing?”

Gwen shakes off the news that's going to make the coming weeks more difficult than she wants to consider, and she lets her mouth curve into a smile. “You know what the second thing is. Where is he?”

Merlin laughs, already standing and taking her arm in his. “Waiting impatiently, no doubt. We've been expecting you for hours. Come on.”

*

Gwen has never thought it's a _good_ idea, really, doing this with an entitled and his head of household. It raises eyebrows in the Aegis, and if they deem her judgment compromised, she could have her ship taken from her.

Perhaps not a good idea, but looking down at Arthur, kissing him while Merlin works him slowly open, feels like a very necessary thing. They haven't taken her ship yet.

“What shall I do?” she asks quietly, catching Arthur's eye.

“All of us together, tonight,” says Merlin, before Arthur can answer.

She listens to him. He's the one who knows how much unrest they're going to go through soon.

It's easy enough to tug Arthur around until she's beneath him, so Merlin can take him from behind while he fucks her, and he looks down at her wide-eyed, mouth always close enough to hers that he could kiss her in half a second, if the urge takes him. She smiles and pulls him down, tangles her fingers in his hair and parts her legs, waits for him to come inside.

Arthur must know something is wrong, and possibly even what it is, but he just reaches up a hand to cup her breast, groans as Merlin slides another finger inside him.

Perhaps Gwen's judgment is compromised. It seems like a fair trade.

*

“What's the third thing?” Merlin asks afterward, sleepy and soft. Arthur is asleep between them, a sprawl of a man with an arm slung over each of them like he's worried they might wiggle away in the night.

“Oh,” says Gwen, a little surprised. “Only that I love you both. What better business could the Aegis have with the House of Pendragon?”

Merlin smiles at her over Arthur's head. “None. You know things aren't going to be easy, with Ygraine Recurring.”

“Well, she'll be here soon. And Arthur can always request permission from the Aegis. As the nearest officer, it would be my duty and my pleasure to assist him.” Merlin still looks a little worried, and Gwen reaches across Arthur to touch his shoulder. “We'll get through it, Merlin. I promise.”

Merlin glances down at Arthur and then across him to her again, and this time he looks steadier. “We will.”


	2. Freya/Morgana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana prefers to take care of problems before they become problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A refresher on the warnings for this chapter: master/slave relationship, in a world where entitled can breed slices basically however they please.
> 
> Written as leftovers for the week one "Cross" challenge at summerpornathon.

There's never a better way to wake up than with her lovely girl between her legs.

Morgana comes awake with a moan, her fingers already searching out Freya's pretty soft ears, just perfect to hold on to. “Morning, darling.”

When she opens her eyes, Freya darts a quick look up under her lashes before returning to her licking. She's always neat and precise, and Morgana sighs into it, enjoying the pleasure to start her morning before she has to deal with tedious business. Arthur has seen a familiar gene print in a database, and if he has then Uther certainly has. It has every likelihood of becoming a problem.

Morgana prefers to take care of problems before they become problems.

Sometimes, she'll allow Freya to spend an hour, to take all the time she likes to indulge in before she comes, but today, she hurries her along with a tweak of the ear. Freya is very well trained. It takes only that to make her go faster, to carefully slip a finger inside to make Morgana gasp and, after not too long, come.

“Come up here,” Morgana says when she's done. She's sensitive this morning, could come another time or three. She'll have to save it for later, as reward for a job well done. Freya needn't wait, though. “You know I have business to do today, but I want to take care of you first. Do you mind it a little fast?”

Freya shakes her head, eyes wide. She's still so new, and already so responsive, and such a joy. There's always a certain pleasure in splices, a pleasure that's only better for how little time Morgana will get to spend with each one. Freya is a treasure. Morgana will have to order another like her someday. “Anything you like.”

“Mm, tempting.” Morgana bites at her neck and Freya's back bows, a lovely arch. Her legs are already parting when Morgana reaches between them, and she's wet, and easy slide when Morgana puts her fingers in. Freya makes a beautiful little noise. Morgana smiles, goes faster.

When Freya comes, shaking and wide-eyed, Morgana lifts her fingers to suck on. Salty, lovely, just as always. Freya is a masterpiece.

“Do you have to go already?”

“Sorry, darling.” Morgana leans in and kisses her. She can just feel Freya purring like this, and it takes effort to pull away, to stand up and stretch out with the morning sun leaking into her room. “Business, you know. But you'll keep yourself occupied and tell me all about it tonight.”

There's a vase of flowers by the mirror, new ones from the garden. They're gorgeous, and Morgana gives in to temptation, snaps one from its stem and takes it over to the bed to slip it into Freya's hair. Freya, still sleepy and sated from her orgasm, just blinks up at her, a little shy. Morgana hopes she never loses that. “What's this?”

“The most beautiful cross in my garden, for the most beautiful cross I've ever had in my bed. Wear that today for me, won't you? With the purple gown, I think. Arthur is coming, probably Merlin too. I want you looking nice.”

Freya ducks her head. “Oh?”

Morgana strokes her ear and the flower all at once, and enjoys the way Freya shivers. “Don't worry, darling, you're very impressive. I do like showing off my things.”

“Of course.”

Morgana tears herself away and goes to the wardrobe to dress for the day. It's been too long since her last treatment, so she must be more careful than usual. It's going to be an important day.

She thinks she sees Freya frowning in the mirror when she turns to it to primp, but by the time she looks over her shoulder it's the same look as ever, Freya's eyes wide with enjoyment while Morgana puts on her armor for the day, the flower in her hair bringing out her eyes, the perfect picture of everything Morgana could have ordered.

Yes, she'll certainly have to ask for one like Freya again, when she's gone.


	3. Elena/Mithian/Vivian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We ought to have known someone guessed there was a Recurrence here,” says Elena. “The papers have all been fretting about the bees dying.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** mentions of serious illness and moderate injury; past and present betrayal
> 
> Written as leftovers for the week five "Switch" challenge at summerpornathon.

“Tell me Morgana Pendragon didn't send you.”

Nimueh, standing on Mithian's porch with her hand pressed to her bloody side and an all-too-familiar blonde woman behind her, shrugs. “She didn't if it will make you let me in.”

Mithian keeps blocking the door, and tries not to sigh at the sounds behind her, no doubt Vivian and Elena trying to get the best view out the window to see who's upsetting her. “Then who did send you?”

“She needs somewhere to go, and we're low on friends. Can't you take some pity on us?”

Mithian frowns and looks at the woman again. She knows her bees well, and knows she'll have a swarm on her hands in minutes if she doesn't send them away or let them inside. “We aren't friends,” she says, but she steps aside to let Nimueh and Ygraine Pendragon inside.

*

“Well of course bees can sense royalty,” Vivian says to their guest in the living room, sounding exasperated, while Mithian is left with the task of patching up the woman who helped ruin her life. “You've never been stung, have you?”

“We ought to have known someone guessed there was a Recurrence here,” says Elena. “The papers have all been fretting about the bees dying.”

“I won't thank you for pitching up on my doorstep with the Pendragon matriarch in tow,” Mithian says, quiet enough that they won't hear her in the next room. “Are you going to kill her yourself, or let Morgana do it? You wouldn't take her to Uther.”

“Would I not?” Nimueh looks distant, though. “I'm not sure what I'm going to do, though. I'm under Morgana's payment, but she'd be safer with either of the other two.”

Mithian raises her eyebrows. “You would go to Arthur?”

“Better he than Uther, I suppose.” Nimueh rolls her shoulders, testing her regenerated skin. “If they offered you your place back, wouldn't you take it?”

“You and Morgana Pendragon know just why I don't have my place any longer.” Mithian jerks her head at the living room. “I have them to think of now.”

“Nimueh,” Ygraine calls from the living room, and she may claim she's a simple girl named Venus, but there's an easy note of command in her voice that belies it. “Are you better?”

The way Nimueh looks then, Mithian could almost trust that she won't sell Ygraine to Morgana.

*

“You're distracted,” says Vivian, pouting, in bed that night. She's straddling Mithian, hair a riot over her shoulders, and Elena instantly looks up from where she was kissing Mithian's breast, so she's met by both of their concern. “The Pendragon succession doesn't have anything to do with us here.”

Mithian summons a smile. “Of course not.” She rolls Vivian over so she's on top instead, and starts kissing her way down Vivian's body, letting Elena take up what she was doing on Vivian instead. She's most in the mood to lavish attention than to have it lavished on her, today, and Vivian always adores attention.

“Don't think—oh, don't think you've gotten away with this,” says Vivian, but she moves into Mithian's mouth, and it's at least a stay of sentence. Mithian knows how to take what she can get.

Vivian falls asleep after, when they're a messy pile of limbs, and Mithian is left with Elena, who's a little too breathless for Mithian's comfort. “You'd tell us if it was something bad, wouldn't you?”

“Of course.” Mithian strokes her hair away from her face. “Everything is going to be okay. I promise.”

*

“I don't know if you hired her, but Nimueh has Ygraine Pendragon's Recurrence. If you find one, you'll find the other.”

Uther Pendragon leans back in his chair. Several doses of Regenex later he still sounds hoarse. Some things, the body remembers. “And why would you tell me this? I believe you care more for my son's success than for mine.”

Mithian thinks of Elena upstairs, and the gene therapy she needs. She thinks of Vivian, longing to be at the center of parties again—the entitled always do like a pretty bee splice around, to remind them that they're royalty. She thinks of her own abandoned career, lost when Morgana Pendragon didn't protect her as she had promised. Arthur has always been the only Pendragon she could stand, but he's the least powerful of them. “There's a price.”

“I would be shocked if there weren't, but perhaps we can come to some sort of deal.”

Mithian takes a deep breath, and thinks of everything she'll win, betraying a woman who laughed with delight when the bees swarmed her. “I believe we can.”


	4. Bronwen/George

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George has been trained, of course, on all possible procedures of bureaucracy which he might be called upon to perform.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** very affectionate bribery
> 
> Written as leftovers for the week four "Forbidden" challenge at the summerpornathon.

George has been trained, of course, on all possible procedures of bureaucracy which he might be called upon to perform. Training, however, is different from action, and it isn't often that a Recurrence from a house so noble as Pendragon makes it as far as receiving their seal.

Or not receiving their seal, as the case may be.

“So you're telling me,” Nimueh says (she's doing the speaking, while Her Majesty looks around with her eyes wide—George is rather uncomfortable with such open emotion on the face of an entitled, but she's new. He averts his eyes), “that without the tax documents, we can't receive the seal, but without the genetic extraction we can't receive the tax documents, and without the seal, we can't receive the genetic extraction.”

George feels himself twitch. “There are many missed steps there, but in a simplified sense, yes.”

That makes Her Majesty look at him. “I can't be confirmed, then?”

“Surely there must be a way to grease the wheels,” says Nimueh. “A step in the circle somewhere where you have a friend, or our credit might be well-spent ...”

“Bribery is strictly against the rules!”

“Well, we could spend another day going around in circles ...” Nimueh trails off and nods at Her Majesty, who is staring up at the ceiling of the Hall of Records.

George sighs. “Give it two hours.”

*

“Darling, you're supposed to be off-shift!”

George sighs and leans on Bronwen's desk. She's a sight for sore eyes, at her desk hidden away in the center of the bureaucracy, an insignificant step in the process. “I'm assisting the genetic recurrence of Her Majesty Ygraine DuBois of the House of Pendragon.”

“Oh, are you? And what can I do for you?”

George closes his eyes. He can't look at her and say it. “Are you amenable to a bribe?”

*

Bronwen's quiet little office is the best place for it, if they have to do it, and she giggles the whole time, lowering her voice to a whisper to say “Well, I'll have to exact a price, Advocate, you know.”

“This isn't funny,” George says, a bit helplessly. It's hard to take his duties seriously when she's climbed on top of him, all ready for a vigorous bout of sex. “Ygraine Pendragon is waiting for her seal.”

“Well, she can wait a little longer. She's got a child, she knows what sex is.”

“This one doesn't.”

Bronwen laughs down at him. “Are you going to argue with me? Come on, Advocate, take your pants off.”

It's easy to forget about the House of Pendragon for just a few moments—entitled come and they go, but the staff at the Hall of Records stays much the same, and Bronwen, of course, is more of a constant to George than most. She knows just the way to twist her wrist, to sink down on him, to move against him, and he knows just the way her face moves as she adjusts, the way she smiles, satisfied, when she makes him gasp. George could spend forever with her, just like this.

Well, the Recurrence just outside the office door is less than ideal.

“There,” says Bronwen when they're done, flopping to one side and grinning at him. She's irrepressible, no matter how long she stays caught up in the bureaucracy, even if it's not ever what she wanted to do with her life. “Consider me very thoroughly bribed. Shall we get our clothes back on and get her those asset estimates?”

*

Ygraine of the House of Pendragon, Recurred as Venus Vincent, raises her hand and looks at the glowing seal on her arm, her rightful place restored.

George has the feeling that it will be a while before things are quiet enough for him to engage in a bit of rule-breaking again.


	5. Nimueh/Ygraine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What else am I supposed to call you, your Majesty?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** dub-con, mostly to be safe
> 
> Written as leftovers for the week three "Tropesmash" challenge at the summerpornathon.

“Your Majesty.”

She shivers a little when Nimueh says the words. Nimueh doesn't think it's entirely because she's confused and upset, though that may certainly be a part of it. “I wish you wouldn't call me that.”

“What else am I supposed to call you, your Majesty? You're going to take your place or they'll kill you, I thought I made that clear enough. You should get used to it.”

This Ygraine (not Ygraine, she prefers to be called Venus, and in the end it's easier to call her “Your Majesty,” if only as a reminder of what Nimueh can and can't be to her) is gorgeous to behold, pulling the shreds of her dignity around her and straightening her spine like she has every second of a hundred millennia behind her instead of less than three decades. “It's not my place.”

“The genes don't lie. Your family—”

“They aren't my family,” she says, sharp, and Nimueh wants to beam her delight. The House of Pendragon doesn't know what she's bringing them. “I have a family.”

“And this is how you'll protect them.”

“Why are you helping me?”

Ygraine has always made her want to tell the truth, but Nimueh shakes her head. “It's anyone's duty.”

The funny thing is, Ygraine never knew when she was lying, but Venus's lips thin like she already has it figured out.

*

She creeps into Nimueh's bed when they're still flying, endless expanses of stars while Nimueh puts off the decision of which Pendragon should have her, or whether she can get away with taking her to the Aegis and making sure she receives her entitlement before she faces them all.

“I think you're lying,” she whispers, hot in Nimueh's ear, and Nimueh comes sharply into the present, because this girl should have no reason to climb into her bed. She only knows Nimueh as a stranger who's kidnapped her, taken her from everything she knew (just like she did for Nimueh once—only that wasn't her). There's no reason for this, but oh, it feels good, to have a familiar body next to hers again.

“Oh? About what?”

“I think you're helping me because she was something to you. Not out of duty, not because anyone is paying you, but because my genes are familiar, and you loved her.” And she's clever in the way Ygraine always was, because she leans in, her lips a breath away from Nimueh's when Nimueh is already so tempted, and says “So help me. Tell me what I need to know.”

*

They fuck on the Aegis ship to Arthur Pendragon's stronghold, when the mark of entitlement is still fresh on Venus's arm.

Nimueh falls back on the bed and pulls Venus after her, until she's on top, in control, with Nimueh's face buried between her legs and Nimueh can't taste or smell or hear anything that isn't her.

She doesn't taste the same. Nimueh is glad of it, because she's coming to be very taken with Venus. It's a disservice to her to be doing this as she would for Ygraine. She sets herself to her task, enjoys the way Venus's thighs flex and her hands catch in Nimueh's hair and pull. Nimueh can barely breathe, dizzy, her world narrowed down to salt and skin and her own blood rushing through her ears, and if she had the air for it she would laugh. As it is, she redoubles her efforts and pulls back for air when Venus comes, her thighs clenching, every muscle in her body going tight.

“I hope that was everything you could have hoped,” Nimueh says when she pulls away and can breathe again, almost surprised at the roughness of her voice, and strokes Venus's thigh, considers her next word carefully. “Venus.”

Ygraine had a look she used to wear around Nimueh, a certain kind of proprietary pleasure Nimueh has never seen anywhere else. Venus wears it well. “I think,” she says, moving until she can slide her hand between Nimueh's legs, “that I might like it if you called me 'your Majesty.'”


End file.
